


Double Risk and a Whole Lotta Rain

by omo_dribbledrabbles



Series: Percy's Accidents [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: A little bit of tears, Accidental victim, At least he's alone this time, Desperation, Embarrassment, Gen, Hot boy struggling, Mostly desperation, Omorashi, The watersports is really light, Watersports, a water bottle is involved, and a few towels, holding in your piss for this long actually hurts in anot good way ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omo_dribbledrabbles/pseuds/omo_dribbledrabbles
Summary: A handsome boy doesn't schedule his bathroom breaks very well and gets caught in heavy traffic while a Floridian storm rages above him. Without many other options, he'll have to resort to the next best option.
Series: Percy's Accidents [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573306
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. The First Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Article of our own is very overspecific with what tags you use. That's not relevant. Welcome to my first work on this website! This isn't my only one, and it won't be my last. Stay in tune, I like screwing around with thiz OC in particular.

9:00 AM

Percy Castro pulled skillfully into his designated parking spot at the Firestone and switched off the engine of his Ford truck. Tugging the keys out of the ignition with a happy and contented sigh, he hopped out and took his well used water bottle with him, keys sailing through the air in a solo game of catch. 

He shouldered the door open with a bright, confident smile.

"Mornin' all" he called, earning a few tired but well natured greetings back. He passed behind Jarvis, giving him a warm smack on his shoulder. 

"Hey JT, stomach doin' better today?"

"Yeah, man, it was hell day and night yesterday, but I'm feelin' mighty fine this mornin'."

"Something tells me your paycheck has more to do with that smile than you bein' here at all." He taunted, dropping his wallet and phone in his little pit of a locker without a second glance. 

"Hey, you don't tip off Hicks and maybe I'll still consider you a friend, huh? Atta boy."

He scoffed at J.T. with a roll of his eyes. He was well adjusted to the shop and all its happenings, and he was mutuals with most of the folks there, no matter if one sold another out to the manager. Percy was strong, tall, and fit, and he spoke fluent Spanish, which was a great thing to be if you want good business. He took a slow, generous swig from his water bottle, set it down next to his locker, clocked in, and went on to dote on the lovely 1997 Lincoln town car he had personally adopted for the next half year, running a hand over the low hood and lovingly picking a spot off of its ornament. 

"Hey, old girl… I'm gonna check your pipes again, see if that oil did you any good yesterday…"

12:00 PM

Percy's mouth felt like he had been sucking on a Tootsie Pop for an indeterminate amount of time as a method of some sick torture, tongue damn near raw and sticky as a tar pit. 

He was fixing up a client's Nissan Altima, flashlight in hand as he searched for the source of the issue. In his thirst, he wondered when he would get to the center of said Tootsie Pop, or if his hell was just that personal. 

She reported that she wasn't getting any kind of cold air, and "the air I *am* getting is hot and musty, and my kids complain about how hot it is all the time-" (she was one of those types of moms who probably needed a vacation, a night out with endless mimosas, and a Venezuaelan helicopter pilot to woo her worries away more than a fixed AC). 

After draining his second fill from the water bottle (like a crystal spring in the middle of the Sahara, a true diamond in the rough), he popped open the hood and dove right in, flashing his light into the guts of the squat beast. As he bent over, he felt a sudden pressure below his navel, scoring a wave of need from his bladder. He studiously ignored it while he checked the AC's fluids, waiting several minutes until the metal from his belt grew too uncomfortable to avoid.

Even then, he passed the flashlight to Hicks and moved his belt up a hole with an absent minded comment about how he didn't wanna deal with this lady's complaints longer than he had to. He had a relatively strong bladder, and it proved itself useful in the best of situations, so he told himself once his responsibilities were well out of the way, he'd tend to himself and carry on working.

4:00 PM, his boss told him to go on and head home. He was grateful for the slack, quickly grabbing his wallet, phone, and his now empty water bottle, and headed out of the Firestone parking lot.

He pulled out onto the main road and looked up and out to the horizon. There was a collection of dark clouds visibly rolling in, the brilliant blue that stretched wide across the Florida sky giving way to a rumbling darkness that held the undeniable promise of torrential rain.

Rain... Water...

Dammit, be forgot to use the restroom on his way out!

In his frustration he lightly smacked the outer rim of his wheel, scanning his mirrors for a way out so he could look for a rest stop. No such luck, said fate, and it took any sign, whether metaphorical or physical, of relief with it. 

"It's… not too far from home" he muttered without much power to his words. He had some vague faith in himself that he could make it home. What was another half hour of holding it?

4:28 PM

When the storm hit his position on the road, it took mere seconds to get to the level of "bad weather" that most non-natives would cover their heads over and scatter for shelter like cockroaches. His need to relieve himself, also, had shifted from a low four to an Oh Shit We're In The Endgame Now. 

He had resorted to jiggling the leg not holding the brake rapidly where it settled, panic sucking the breath from his lungs. His bladder had taken a bad beating, and he couldn't remember a time he needed to go this fucking badly. 

His truck inched forward on the road, then a little more, and he felt a flare of irritation deep in his gut chased by intense worry that made sweat trickle down his spine. For what felt like an hour, he had been on the verge of losing himself entirely, but had managed to keep it all under lockdown. 

"Why can't traffic move any FUCKING FASTER?!"

Normally he wouldn't lose his cool over traffic, but the situation had grown. Urgent. 

He had already loosened his belt another hole, but his button bit into the skin where his bladder sat, leaving an angry red mark on his swollen stomach. He checked the car in front of him, glancing down to twist his button open in an attempt to ease his pain

Oh, that felt so much better. A small ray of clarity broke through the fog of desperation in his brain, and he sat a little easier as he prepared to-

He gasped aloud, his hand shooting down to hold himself between the legs. Warmth spread in the midst of all the pressure he put on himself.

Shit, *shit*!!!

He struggled to get ahold of himself, heart pounding and his face flushing with blood.

Rain continued to pound head-on against the windshield, waves of water pouring off of the glass. In the warm dryness of his truck, he shut it out as much as he could, massaging himself methodically to try to work the soreness out. He hadn't felt this scared not to wet himself in a long, long time. There was no way he was making it out dry, and the reality of it set in like a chilly vice. He had to manage this somehow, even if it wasn't permanent, he just needed some of this pressure taken off before it was too late.

Taking a frantic look around, his eyes settled on his empty water bottle, and he felt mortified even thinking about-

Maybe he could.

The thought alone caused his bladder to spasm, and his heart leapt to his throat. Looking quickly up to traffic, he gnawed at his lip with hesitation before snatching the empty bottle, unscrewing the cap with shaking hands. His feelings on the matter would have to just suck it up, because either he fixed this right here, right now, or he pissed himself. Only when he knew traffic wouldn't be moving for awhile did he park in his spot and try to work the zipper on his jeans. He only paused once before slowly taking his dick out of his boxers, heartbeat like a frantic samba and face hotter than a dashboard. He couldn't believe he was doing this, he couldn't, in a car no less!

He carefully aligned the plastic rim of the water bottle over the tip of his dick, hands still trembling fine as the last little pieces of his resolve fell away, and he hesitantly let his muscles go slack. 

At first, nothing happened. Fear washed over him, and he was scared that he had broken himself somehow.

He waited a second more, tears breaking the surface as a furious cry tore itself from his throat, he wanted it to be over *so badly*, why wasn't he doing it???

Another thick sheet of rain battered the windshield, and that was it for his poor bladder before he finally let go.

And he felt every muscle in his body turn to butter. What started as a slow and steady stream of gold turned quickly into a rapid current. It loudly sprayed the bottom of the plastic and turned into a hot, rising flood, misting the sides. He let out a low, long moan of pure bliss, struggling to keep a hold of the water bottle as he completely let go into the narrow spout. He felt absolutely disgusting for misusing his water bottle for something like this, but relief quickly overpowered the sensation as the bottle filled, warm urine reaching past his grip on the bottle.

He became acutely aware of how fast the bottle was filling. He didn't have time to wonder how the hell he managed to hold all of that inside of him, and he clamped down again to try and stop the flow before the bottle filled completely. Percy had just finished carefully threading the cap back on when the guy in the car behind him laid on his horn, and he looked quickly up to see traffic leaving him behind. He stuffed himself back in his boxers, switching over into drive before stepping on the gas, noting the cooling spot he felt on the inside of his pants.


	2. The Last Accident

4:42 PM

He had gotten through traffic without another accident, and the sky had eased up enough to where rain collected on the leaves of the gnarly trees above the roads and splattered in thick droplets onto the roof of your car. Typical Florida.

Sometime between his corrupt excursion and the present time, his need to go had grown once again, and his whole lower body was sore from how hard he had held on earlier.

Percy's leg had taken up bouncing on its toes again, and he pursed his lips tightly as he focused on getting back home to his parents' house. But the threat of a worse spill than earlier rose in a dramatic wash of panic, and with a blush on his face, he began considering options again. 

He was in a dark, slightly unfamiliar neighborhood, under the cover of trees. He could very well just do as nature expected of him and piss in the bushes and he wouldn't feel nearly as bad, knowing he'd been watering trees since he was a kid.

Then he thought of the shame of being caught peeing in someone's lawn, and he groaned aloud to himself. That would replay in his brain right before sleep for *years*. 

He checked the water bottle with an eluding glance, and bitterly noted that it was filled to the absolute brim. Given, it was squashed in a little on the side, and he could very well just blow it up-

No. He shivered at the thought of putting his lips up against something that he had taken so much relief in pissing in twenty minutes ago. He could almost taste the smell, and he clenched his jaw against his disgust. 

His bladder had begun to pulse dangerously, and he had the strong urge to hold himself with a hand again. There was no way he could make it home, not with how weak he was. 

He cursed at himself in both Spanish and English for not using the toilet at the auto repair shop the second he had a chance. He could have avoided all of this, and he could have kept his favorite water bottle piss-free.

He glanced up in the mirror to make sure he wasn't tailed by any poor driver trying to get home, and pulled over to the side of the street, parking it and putting the engine on idle. His mind wandered to anything else empty in the truck. Stomped-on Burger King cup his best friend had trampled, a torn apart mountain dew can, his glove compartment-

Ew. Gross. Who the fuck would do that?

His leg jiggled harder, and his mind quickly expanded its thinking. And then it dawned on him that he had several oily rags from the store in his backseat.

He felt sick with how illicit the thought was at first, but most of his self-consciousness was thrown out the window when he first needed to go.

...With a tense sigh, Percy reached behind him and grabbed a fistful of dark red, still-fluffy fabric, dragging as much of it as he could and bringing it up to the driver's seat. He started folding up the material as thick as he could get it and started stacking it together, creating a makeshift padding that barely looked thick enough. This is the best he would get right about now, and his heart started to pound again with the weight of knowing what he was about to do.

He shifted his already unbuttoned jeans around, pulling his boxers down enough to tug himself free, licking his lips with a bout of sheepishness. He couldn't believe for the second time in one night he was about to piss into something not meant to get pissed into.

It took some self-encouragement to work himself up to starting again, but once he let go the tiniest amount, the stream of yellow came easy, spurting out and soaking quickly into the towels, turning the red into a moist black. His face bloomed in heat and he quickly clenched down again on natural instinct. "Come on, you got this…" Another few seconds of muttered goading passed, and he tried to let out more, just to get it over with, then need crashed into his bladder like a basketball to the stomach, pee hissing out of him like a broken fountain. He gasped aloud and clenched down, but a substantial amount had missed the towels entirely and had splattered down to the floorboard beneath, leaving a shining pool in the shadows. 

He cursed aloud to himself multiple times as he felt his muscles weaken further, warm liquid continuing to seep into the towels as he held onto himself. He bit down on his lip and sighed, allowing himself to release some pressure, and he felt the fabric surrounding the tip of his dick grow hot with the amount of urine soaking it.

His legs began to tremble with the effort not to piss through the stack and to add to the minor puddle at his feet, but he was careful and methodical. Once he felt wet reach his fingers at the bottom, he repositioned to release into a drier part of the towels, completely and entirely saturating the soft and absorbent fibers. When he felt that he was finally close to finishing, he sat back and let himself go, closing his eyes in both shame and solace as he let himself piss freely into the stack, the stream petering out with an anticlimactic stop. He sat like that for a few seconds, his bladder feeling like an overused balloon. A balloon with sore nerve endings. He checked the rags, and they were almost entirely dark with the amount of liquid they held. He cursed to himself quietly, again, and gently set them where the puddle was. Tucking himself neatly into his boxers again, he rubbed his palms against his already dirty jeans (dirty with car fluids, ya perv) and drove on home.

5:08 PM

No one was in the driveway when he came home. He would have ACTUALLY died of embarrassment if he had to go through explaining what he did. 

He shoved his keys into his pocket on the way out the door, carefully peeling the heavy (and now disgustingly chilly) towels and taking his water bottle out before heading inside. 

He poured the bottle's contents out into a nearby sink on his way to the laundry room, careful not to splash, and threw the towels he held into the washer.

Stripping his uniform shirt and jeans off, he tossed those in, and noticed just how bad the splotch actually was on his boxers. Shame once again warmed his browned face and broad shoulders as he stripped himself of those as well, kicking them into the washing machine as he slipped into a warm, fresh pair. He drug himself upstairs to his room, and let himself fall into bed. The only freedom from awareness he got from this incident was sleep, and it took him and dragged him under.

9:00 AM, the next day

Percy parked his Ford and entered the establishment.

On his way in, he was greeted by an enthusiastic Jarvis.

"Hey, don't you usually have a water bottle?"

"Shut it, J.T."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how I did!! I'm very new to AO3, so feel absolutely free to comment some constructive advice if you think a scene could have been written better.


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